


Better With Four

by Goldy



Series: Better With Four [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, only sort of cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1910871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldy/pseuds/Goldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Journey’s End AU. Two Doctors, one Rose, and a Donna on the TARDIS. As it should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better With Four

**Title** : Better With Four  
 **Disclaimer** : According to canon, the Doctor can’t even have five minutes of happiness, so, you know, not mine.  
 **Characters/Pairings** : Ten I/Rose, Ten II/Rose, Donna  
 **Summary** : A Journey’s End AU. Two Doctors, one Rose, and a Donna on the TARDIS. As it should be.  
 **Spoilers** : 4x13, Journey’s End. Just pretend it finished 13 minutes earlier and you’re golden.  
 **Word Count** : 8, 396  
 **Rating** : PG-13  
 **A/N** : Russell T Davies has this annoying habit of giving me glimpses of things that I want, but can’t have. Like these four travelling together. *flaps hands*

Betaed by the ever amazing [](http://mrv3000.livejournal.com/profile)[**mrv3000**](http://mrv3000.livejournal.com/) . *glomps*

The TARDIS cast down a warm, bright light over the pool room, tickling Donna’s skin and making her sigh quietly in contentment. _Relaxing_ , she thought. _Peaceful—that’s another word_.

Or it should have been, anyway.

“I can’t believe I’ve never tried sunbathing before,” said the Doctor loudly, shifting over to his other side, one hand coming up to shield his eyes.

God, he was a pale stick of a thing.

“Guess you just needed that little spark of me in there,” said Donna, also shielding her eyes, but for a very different reason. “The other you is probably a helpless case.”

The Doctor hummed appreciatively, stretching out and flashing her more pale skin. Donna sighed and figured it could be worse. At least he had a towel covering his lower bits this time.

“What do you suppose they’re doing?” asked the Doctor after a pause.

“Who?” Donna said, knowing perfectly well who he was referring to, but trying her best to avoid thinking about it.

“You know, me. The other me. And… Rose. Together.”

Times like this Donna found herself wondering what had ever possessed her to touch that hand of the Doctor’s. Sure, she might have perished on that Dalek ship with the TARDIS and left the rest of the universe to certain death, but at least she wouldn’t have to have this conversation.

“Doctor,” she said firmly, but not unkindly, “I’m fairly certain they’re shagging.”

He sat up straighter and nearly toppled off the edge of the chair. "D'you really think so?" he said desperately. He gave her a wide-eyed and confused gaze. “That doesn’t sound like me. Does it?"

“They haven’t seen each other in years, they’ve just saved the universe, what do you _think_ they’re doing?”

“Tea and biscuits? Catching up?” He paused hopefully. “A nice game of hide-and-seek?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Davros really did a number on the other you. I tried telling him he was being an idiot, but I don’t think I was as convincing as Rose’s lips.”

The Doctor waved that away. His other self’s mental state was obviously not high up on his list of priorities. “She certainly didn’t seem like she wanted to shag _me_.”

“That’s because she still thinks _he’s_ the Doctor, you prawn. Give her a chance. She’ll come around.”

The Doctor sounded hopeful. “Yeah?”

“ _Yes_ ,” said Donna. “Now, Doctor, do me a favour?” He sent her a questioning look. “Shut up.”

“Right,” said the Doctor.

The pool room descended into blessed silence. After a few minutes, the Doctor sat up, and then laid back again, sighing loudly.

Donna flung her arm over her eyes. “What _is_ it?”

“You think they’re shagging? _Really_?”

“Oh, god,” Donna moaned. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of yourself.”

“I’m not!” said the Doctor immediately. “That would be silly and pointless and rather unproductive.”

Donna eyed him.

“Well, maybe a bit.” He mimed a space between his thumb and forefinger. “An ish.”

Donna shook her head and reached for her fallen magazine. Yeah, she was definitely regretting touching that hand.

*****

They weren’t shagging. At least, they didn’t _seem_ like they were shagging—and the Doctor had been watching Rose and the other him fairly studiously. As best as he could tell, there was a lot of hand clutching. And hugging. Long, clingy hugs with the other Doctor sighing softly into her hair and Rose grinning against his shoulder.

It might not have been shagging, but it was still positively unpleasant.

It was unfair. Iniquitous, even. (Iniquitous was a good word. He liked the way it rolled over his tongue—like “allons-y” or “TARDIS” or “time to run.”) What he _wanted_ was for Rose to realize that he was also the Doctor. He might have grown out of a severed hand only six days ago, but he still _felt_ like a 903-year-old Time Lord. And he deserved hugs, too.

He just… he needed to really properly _explain_ what it meant to be part of a Time Lord metacrisis. She’d accepted him after his regeneration, after all, and this wasn’t entirely different. Okay, so he was part human now, but it was still _him_ , and if Rose accepted that once before, he was almost 100 percent certain she would again. Well, 98.7 percent certain, anyway.

The "talk to Rose" plan firmly in mind, he did what any half-human Time Lord who was avoiding his nearly identical double would do—he waited for her to get out of the shower.

When Rose finally opened the door ( _honestly_ , he only had 65 years or so left—and he'd gone and wasted 20 perfectly good minutes of it while Rose washed her hair), she took one look at him and shrieked, grabbing at her towel and hurriedly securing it to her chest. “Doctor?”

His eyes went to her legs, dripping with water, before he hastily forced his gaze up to her face. “Yes?” he managed, very relieved that his voice sounded somewhat normal.

“What…” Rose began, glancing behind her like she half expected to see an alien invading her shower (a very low possibility, the Doctor reasoned, but still not impossible), “what’s going on?”

He swallowed, eyes drawn to a bead of water that slid down her neck and between her breasts, disappearing under the towel.

Bad timing. Bad, _bad_ timing.

“Doctor?” Rose pressed. He guiltily forced his gaze back up to her face again. She frowned. “Hold on. Which one are you?”

“Me,” he said automatically. “I mean… the duplicate one, but I’m not a duplicate, I’m me. I’m… listen, do you want to get, um, dressed? I could come back.”

Rose began to look amused. She secured her towel with one hand and reached behind her, grabbing another towel off the hook and beginning to dry her wet hair. “You always did have rubbish timing.”

“I was just thinking that!” he said, grinning. “The thing is… Rose…”

He trailed off, words sticking in his throat. _It’s been six days, and I still haven’t had a chance to properly snog you yet, and I think, I really, really think, that I might be going a bit mad_. Ooh, that was laying it on a bit thick.

He scratched the back of his neck to give himself time to think and then said, “I never did say a proper ‘hello,’ did I? Last I remember, I was running towards you, and then I woke up naked in front of Donna.”

Rose stopped towelling her hair. “Naked?” she said. “Donna saw you naked?”

There was a slight hint of possessiveness in her voice. Aha! He rocked back on his heels, suddenly feeling far more confident.

“From growing out of my hand,” he explained. He wiggled his fingers at her. “I always did like this hand.”

Rose smirked and resumed drying her hair.

“Rose,” he tried again, beginning to feel a touch of desperation. “Do you know, I don’t think I’ve hugged you yet. Not me _me_ , at any rate. The other me has probably had loads of hugs. Unfair, that.”

Rose rolled her eyes like she found him terribly amusing. “Doctor, it’s not like you need permission to hug me.”

“Really?” he said, eyes lighting up. “I can hug you?”

“Well, yeah, you—oomf,” Rose said, suddenly finding herself pressed up against his chest. “I didn’t mean right now!”

He hummed contentedly. She smelled very, very nice, all pink and wet and clean like she was. He vaguely contemplated licking her neck. (Pluses: He could see if she still used the same bath soap. Minuses: It would probably startle her, which might make her unlikely to hug him again in the future.)

“I missed you,” he whispered.

Rose began to relax. She dropped her hair towel, curling her arm around his neck. The other hand held her towel tightly to her chest.

“I missed you, too,” Rose said, matching his quiet tone. Her arm squeezed the back of his neck. And then she said, “Doctor? It _is_ still you, yeah?”

“As real as the day I grew out of a hand in a jar,” he said. Rose stiffened, so he rushed to add, “It’s me, Rose. Honestly. I might have one heart instead of two, but everything else—everything that matters—that’s the same. It’s a bit like I’ve regenerated only it’s still… it’s still me.”

Rose relaxed and then leaned into him. Slowly, he began to realize other things—specifically, that she was wearing a towel, and _only_ a towel, and that it didn’t really cover her much at all, did it?

He closed his eyes and very decidedly did _not_ think about her breasts against his chest or her bare legs against his. No. Because he loved her and he wanted to give her time to accept that he was still him. He wouldn’t fall on her like some sex-starved… human.

“So,” Rose said, “there are really two of you?”

“Yup.” He grinned down at her. “How brilliant is that?”

Rose’s responding smile was oddly pained. “God, this is going to get so confusing.”

*****

The problem with being in love with the Doctor, Rose discovered, was that she _still_ loved him even when he split into two nearly identical, but still slightly different people.

She tried focusing on just the Time Lord version at first, but while he seemed happy to have her back, he was even more distant than he used to be. She knew it was connected to what Davros had told him, and she wanted to give him time, but the half-human him had taken to following her around with a kicked puppy look in his eyes, blurting out how he was feeling at what were turning into very inopportune moments. (“Rose, could you pass the jam? And not leave me again, ever?”)

And _then_ —then there were the ways they could both look at her. Like he wanted to strip off her clothes and shag her right there on the bloody kitchen table. Probably with the jam involved.

Finding herself in a cramped closet with the half-human Doctor’s hands up her shirt was _not_ making things any simpler.

Not that Rose was doing much thinking at the moment. The Doctor’s lips were on her neck and she was vaguely aware she was making half gasping, half moaning noise. She leaned her head back to give him better access.

His teeth scraped her earlobe. Rose squeaked. She heard him chuckle, his laugh reverberating through his body, before he turned his head to meet her lips. She kissed him back eagerly, yanking him closer to her.

They banged against the closet wall, hitting a shelf that tumbled unceremoniously to the floor with a loud crash. The Doctor grinned into her mouth, the hand on her back moving upward, fingers teasing at her bra strap.

Rose arched into him before reality caught up with her. They were in a _closet_. A _closet_ in the TARDIS.

She abruptly broke the kiss, leaning back on the wall and breathing heavily. She needed a few seconds to gain her bearings again. It was too dark in the closet to see the Doctor properly, but she could sense his confusion.

She found herself trying to explain. “This feels wrong.”

The Doctor sounded dazed. “I’m sorry. What?”

She wriggled, pushing his hands out from under her shirt. He finally seemed to get the message and took a step back. There were a few heavy moments of silence and Rose's eyes finally began to adjust. She could just barely make out the Doctor's shape in front of her.

“I see,” he said slowly. “I thought… I thought you…”

“I do!” Rose said. “It’s just…”

“I’m not him,” the Doctor said bitterly. “Or not the him you want.” He paused. “Oh, I dunno.”

“What?” Rose said. “No, it’s not that.”

Even though she couldn’t see him, she felt him watching her. “Right,” he said after a pause, clearly unconvinced.

Rose could tell she’d gone and stomped on what could sometimes be a surprisingly fragile ego. Great, now she could feel guilty for hurting both of them.

“I know it’s you,” she said. “I _do_. But it’s just… Doctor, if I’m kissing you, it means I’m not kissing him.”

"Rose, you can't be in two places at once."

"Yeah, I think I've got that covered, thanks."

Her stomach gurgled uncomfortably and she winced. The nachos flavoured cotton candy she tried on the planet Felspoon no longer seemed like such a brilliant idea.

The Doctor sounded frustrated. "He knew this would happen, Rose. He's been waiting for it."

"Yeah?" Rose said. "That makes it okay? Sneaking around and hiding in closets for a snog—”

"Well, if it was so terrible—”

"I never _said_ that!" Rose burst out. She wanted to _shake_ him. It wasn't like _he_ had to worry about being unfaithful with another version of herself.

She tried to picture it—two Rose Tylers, and only one Doctor. Her stomach gave another uneasy jump. She'd hate watching the Doctor with another version of herself. Hate it.

"I've got to go," Rose said, pushing by him. She wasn't sure _where_ she had to go to, but she knew she had to get out of this cramped closet, had to stop feeling his breath on her face.

"Rose." His hand landed on her upper-arm. It was warm—too warm. So different from the other Doctor. "Rose, I love you."

She froze, hand hovering over the doorknob. That was the sentence that had started this whole thing to begin with.

“Don’t,” she said. “Just… don’t.”

She could hear him breathing behind her. He let go of her arm and she twisted the doorknob. Light from the hallway spilled into the small closet and she winced, eyes momentarily squeezing shut.

 _They come from the same place_ , she reminded herself. Sometimes, they were exactly the same. And other times… other times, they seemed so different.

“The other you wouldn’t say it,” she whispered.

He matched her quiet tone. "Does that matter?"

"I don't know."

"Rose," he said, "I’m not asking you to choose.”

_Aren’t you?_

But she only nodded, brushing by him and exiting the closet. Her hands absently went to her hair, trying to smooth away any evidence of their snog. She felt better, back out in the open like this. It felt more like she was back in control.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” she said.

“Rose—” he tried again, but she was all ready walking, all ready putting distance between them. She _knew_ he was the Doctor, but it still felt like it came from the wrong one.

*****

"Rose."

The knock on the door was insistent and followed by rattling as someone tried the door handle. "Rose, are you in there?"

Rose rolled over, pressing her face into her pillow and staying quiet. Turned out, avoiding the Doctor when there were two of them running around was a lot harder than she figured. She was going to make a good go of it, though.

" _Rose_ —" the voice took on a panicked note. She heard a noise that could only be the sonic screwdriver, and then a slightly more relieved voice, "Okay, now I _know_ you're in there. I'm not going to force the lock—though I should note that I _could_ , me being so clever and all—but I still think you should let me in." There was a pause, and then, in a more plaintive tone, the voice added on a hopeful, "Rose?"

Rose groaned and sat up, flinging off her covers. She slipped her feet into the slippers by her bedside and shuffled over to the door.

She unhooked the lock on the door, and it swung open. The Doctor got a good look at her and then stared.

Rose blushed. She knew she looked awful—her hair wasn't combed, she was dressed in her flannel pyjamas, and her eyes were red with tears. Still, she swallowed thickly and tried to smile for him.

"What's going on?" she said.

"We've... we've landed," he stammered, still staring at her. His gaze lingered on her face, eyes deepening with concern. "Rose, what's wrong?"

He sounded so _devastated_. Like he'd move the entire universe for her if she asked. It made her feel guiltier. She knew this version of him loved her even if he could never bring himself to say it.

She said the first thing that came to mind. "I miss my mum." And god, was that _true_.

The longing came in short fits and bursts. She imagined Jackie was happy, back on the parallel world. She liked to think about her Mum and Pete snuggled on the couch in the lounge, Tony cuddled between them. Maybe Jackie would tell Tony stories about his older sister. Maybe she’d give him extra hugs from her.

"Oh," said the Doctor. And then, gentler, taking her into his arms, "Oh, Rose."

Rose leaned into his hug, glad for his reassurance, even as she remembered a frantic bout of kissing in a closet. She closed her eyes and snuggled closer. His collar was crisp against her cheek and his hands moved in steady motions over her back.

"You should've..." the Doctor began before trailing off and sighing.

"What?" Rose said.

His responding silence was answer enough.

“Gone back to the parallel world with her?” Rose said. “Back to chips and work and family? After coming all this way to find you again? Is that it, Doctor?"

He pulled away, hands slipping into his pockets. "I didn't say that—”

She felt a stab of irritation with him. The last thing she wanted was his sympathy and self-flagellation.

"I kissed him," Rose blurted. “The other you, I mean.”

His jaw tightened, but he only said, “Oh?”

"A lot," Rose added. _In a closet_. She wasn’t going to share that part. _Actually, we'll probably do it again_. And definitely not that part either.

The Doctor nodded, and still in an insufferably calm voice said, "Of course you did."

"He's _you_!" Rose said, feeling like she had to defend herself in spite of the Doctor's mild reaction.

"He's me," agreed the Doctor. He rocked back on his heels. "One-hundred percent me. Same thoughts, feelings, memories... it was bound to happen, really. I'm surprised it took this long."

"Right," Rose said, still eyeing the Doctor carefully. "You... you don't mind?"

He looked away and spoke to the wall behind her. "Nope. It was to be expected. Inevitable, even."

“Right,” Rose said dully. She felt tears glistening in her eyes, but she pushed on. “I came all this way to find you, but now there’s two of you. I’m not choosing. How can I?”

His gaze swung back around to hers again. “We’re different people now, Rose. We might have come from the same place, but we’ve followed two separate timelines since he grew out of that hand.”

“I know that.” She swallowed. “But it's like you said. He's still you.”

They stared at each other. Finally, the Doctor nodded to himself. "Yeah."

Rose forced herself to smile. "Can't well resist either of you, now can I?" she said. "It's a weakness I have."

His gaze turned fond as he looked at her. “Can’t blame you for that,” he said. He moved forward a few paces, and Rose sighed in relief when he gathered her up in his arms again.

“You all right?” Rose asked.

“Of course I am.” He bumped her forehead with his nose and added, “You’re back, Rose. That’s all that matters.”

She squeezed him tighter. She hoped so. Because there was no way she was ever going to be able to choose.

****

“It’s really, really weird,” she told Donna, both of them decked out next to the TARDIS pool. The tanning lights were on at full blast, and Rose hid under an umbrella, skin all ready feeling warm and prickly. It didn't seem to bother Donna. Rose found herself wondering if Donna was running a serious risk of sunburn, but then figured tanning in the TARDIS must be safer than real tanning.

Donna promptly pulled a magazine up in front of her face, eyes scanning back and forth too quickly for her to actually be reading it. “Hmm?” she said vaguely.

“Me and the Doctor… well, Doctors,” Rose clarified. “It’s all a bit weird.”

Donna pulled the magazine closer to her nose. “I’m doing fine, thanks.”

Rose blinked. “Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry,” she said, beginning to feel sheepish. “How are you feeling?”

The time after they pulled the Earth back home was a blur, but Rose remembered Donna yelling at the Doctor to find some other way to fix the metacrisis, and then the Doctors yelling at each other about there _not_ being anything else, until all three of them concluded that the only thing that needed erasing was Donna’s Time Lord knowledge itself. The process had left Donna unconscious for two days, but she’d woken up as her old self.

“I think I’ve started doing trigonometry in my head. Me. Doing trigonometry. That’s what he leaves me behind with. All five billion languages he speaks, he takes them all out except English, but I can still do trigonometry. How is that helpful?”

“I… I really don’t know,” Rose did her best to sound sympathetic. She waited for what she hoped was a polite pause and then said, “Listen, Donna, I just sort of thought, since you’ve actually shared a brain with the Doctor, you might be able to… well… give me some advice.”

Donna returned to her magazine. “All right, then. Let’s hear it.”

“They both say they're okay with it, but it... it sort of feels like… like cheating with the same person,” Rose explained. “I hate hurting him.”

Donna flipped a page of her magazine. She frowned. “Did you know there’s an underground cult on Felspoon that kidnaps human tourists to breed them with their king?” She made a face. “Good thing we didn’t stay there long. Although, I’d just _like_ to see them try and mate me off with some slime-covered alien.”

Rose found herself momentarily distracted as she contemplated this image. She shook her head. “Donna, are you even listening to me?”

“Every word,” said Donna. She gave the magazine another longing look and then set it down. “You can’t cheat on the same person.”

Rose felt a burst of hope. “Really? Do you think?”

Donna rolled her eyes and then tossed the magazine onto the floor. “Cheating is about betraying the person you love. It’s… I don’t know, hotel rooms and fake names, lying and sneaking around. You want to shag _both_ versions of the man you love. Really, if you think about it, it’s almost the opposite of cheating."

Rose thought about her last snog with the half-human Doctor in a TARDIS closet and felt her face heat up. “Yeah,” she said, clearing her throat. “I suppose.”

“You just need time, is what you need,” Donna said knowingly. “The three of you will sort it out.”

“But what if we don’t?” Rose said, voice catching. “Donna, what if I muck this up, and… and… I dunno, the Doctor’s decided he’s had enough and sends me back—”

“Are you kidding me?” Donna interrupted. “That’s never going to happen.”

Rose smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. It’s just…” she bent over, reaching under her chair for her bag. She rummaged through it and pulled out a notebook.

“What’s that?”

“I’ve been keeping notes,” Rose explained, flipping through it.

Donna blinked. “Notes on _what_?”

“I’ve got to keep track of how they’re different somehow, yeah? I mean, they _are_ the same, but they’re also not. Like… the Time Lord Doctor… he likes touching, likes knowing that I’m still here. He’s still rubbish at expressing his feelings, but he’s happy when we’re hugging or holding-hands. The other Doctor… it’s not that he’s different, exactly, but he’s more open about what he’s thinking. And he’s also more… well…” Rose felt herself blushing and she hastily turned her gaze back to her notebook, “he says it’s the human hormones.”

Donna snorted. “That’s one word for it.” She paused. “And you’re writing all that down? In there?”

Rose nibbled on her thumbnail and pondered her notebook. “It helps me,” she said. “I keep telling myself, I’m back on the TARDIS and that’s the important thing.”

“That’s more like it,” Donna said, beginning to smile. She leaned back again, folding her arms under her head. “You know what we need?”

“What?” Rose said, mirroring Donna’s actions. It _was_ sort of nice to sit out in the sun (or, well, the TARDIS’s heating lamps meant to feel like the sun). She couldn’t believe it had taken this long for her to even realize the TARDIS _had_ a pool room.

“Some time to ourselves, just you and me, off this ship,” Donna said. “Did you know, there are over four-thousand pleasure planets to choose from in the universe?”

“That’s a lot of pleasure planets,” Rose said.

“Oh, yes,” Donna said, sounding so much like the Doctor, Rose almost forgot that they’d taken the Time Lord bits out of her. “One rule, though.”

“What’s that?”

“No talking about the Doctor. No, never mind that. Don’t even _think_ about him.”

Rose figured that was asking the impossible, but she smiled her best smile and said, “So which of these four-thousand pleasure planets has chips?”

****

Rose limped into the TARDIS infirmary, cradling a sore arm. The pleasure planet hadn’t exactly been as relaxing as she and Donna had been expecting.

She fumbled with one of the drawers, pulling out gauze and disinfectant. But that was her life, wasn’t it? Enjoying a pleasure planet was all well and good, but they couldn’t turn a blind eye when they realized the tourist industry was based almost entirely on an illicit slave trade with the poorer planet in the next solar system.

Donna had been absolutely brilliant, grabbing the nail polish and chucking it at the security guards while Rose contacted the authorities. She figured the Doctor would be proud of her.

Rose rolled up her jeans, hissing as she cleaned out the gash on her knee. It hurt, but she’d had much worse working for Torchwood on her parallel world. Crossing universes had been dangerous—especially before they learned how it worked or how to control it.

She’d just finished scrubbing away the dirt on her knee when the Doctor burst into the infirmary, hair sticking up in all directions.

“Rose,” he said thickly, sounding winded. He swept his gaze over her, eyes lingering on the bandage she was pressing to her knee before landing on the bloodstains on her t-shirt.

“What happened?”

She shrugged, going back to her bandage. “Oh, the usual. Inciting a revolution and bringing freedom to an oppressed population.”

“What?” he said faintly.

“You should have seen Donna,” she said. “She knew something was wrong right away. And she’s very… persistent.”

She looked at him and grinned, but his mouth was set in a tight line, and his forehead crinkled into a deep frown. Rose’s smile faltered. He looked like he didn’t know whether to hug her or shake her and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, gaze landing on the gauze still held in her hands.

She swallowed. “Doctor, I’m all right. It’s only a scratch.”

His gaze jerked over to her again. “I know,” he said stiffly.

She nodded and focused her attention back on her wound. She could feel the Doctor’s gaze on her back and it made her feel nervous and jumpy.

She searched for something to say and finally settled on, “Which one are you?”

There was a pause. Uh, oh. That wasn’t good.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course not,” she said brusquely, “forget it.”

She took a deep, calming breath and then rolled her jean bottoms back down over her knee. She carefully put the gauze back in the drawer and then turned around to face him. He’d gotten much closer to her.

“There,” she said. She raised her eyebrows. “All better, see?”

He managed to crack a smile. “Yeah.”

Rose watched him carefully. “It’s hard, yeah? I keep thinking that it’s got to be a dream and I’ll wake up and find none of this actually happened. But it’s not. I’m here, Doctor. Right here.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He shut it abruptly and then reached out to take her hand. He seemed to change his mind at the last second, and he leaned in to kiss her instead.

She momentarily froze in shock before her arms came up to wrap around his neck. He was kissing her with a mindless sort of desperation, arms winding tightly around her back and pulling her closer. She met his desperation, barely clinging to him, letting them both get swept up in the moment.

She told herself it didn’t matter which Doctor she was kissing. It would annoy her too—an endless stream of being “the half-human one” or “the Time Lord Doctor” instead of just _the Doctor_ , just the man he was. But as they pulled away, she couldn’t help placing one hand on his chest, fingers searching for—

Two hearts. Two hearts instead of one. She bit back a gasp and looked up at the Doctor in shock. She hadn’t been sure which Doctor it was, but if she was honest with herself, she figured it would be the human one.

He met her gaze, arms still wrapped tightly around her. The hand from his chest came up to touch her lips—warm and tender from that good just-been-given-a-proper-snog feeling. He tried to smile at her, but his eyes were still full of the dark desperation from earlier.

“Hello,” Rose finally croaked.

“Hello.” And then he was grinning, practically _beaming_ at her. “No lasting damage, then?”

“Doesn’t seem to be,” she said, grinning back at him.

“Hmm,” the Doctor said contentedly. He turned his head, seeking her lips again. She eagerly met his kisses, one hand going into his hair. She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, just kissing.

Finally, the Doctor pulled away and then took her into his arms. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and held her.

"You should go find the other me," he said. "He'll be worried."

"Yeah," Rose said, but the Doctor held her tighter. She listened to the steady double-thump of his two hearts. It was amazing that something that seemed so important could end up having so little impact on the man he actually _was_. "We can stay like this for a while longer, though, can't we, Doctor?"

He seemed relieved that she suggested it. "Oh, Rose Tyler. We can stay here as long as you'd like."

****

Something wet and green flew over her head. It hit a nearby tree, which promptly began to sizzle. Rose gulped and patted her head. Thankfully, it appeared to still be there.

Both Doctors reached out and grabbed her hand.

“Time to run!” said one of them.

They took off, Rose stuck between them, feeling a little bit like a rag-doll as they half-dragged, half-carried her back to the TARDIS.

“That was _my_ line,” said the Doctor on her right. He was wearing blue today. The other Doctor was in brown.

“What do you mean, _your_ line? How can you have a line?”

“The first time Rose and I met,” continued the Doctor in blue, “I grabbed her hand and told her to run. _You_ grew out of a jar three weeks ago. Ergo, it was my line first.”

“I grew out of your regeneration energy. That makes it my line just as well as yours. It’s not like it’s got a copyright.”

Rose stumbled over a tree root. Two identical hands reached under her arms and helped her back to her feet.

“All right there?” they both said in unison.

Rose blinked a few times to clear her head. “Yeah.”

“Come on, almost there,” said the Doctor in brown.

“Looks like you got some of the mucus in your hair,” mused the Doctor in blue, “we’ll have to look at that when we get back. I’ve always wanted a sample of the Slithering Beetle Snake’s venom. _Fascinating_ substance. It specifically targets organic material that it perceives as a threat.”

“Trouble is, this one seems to have gone a bit wrong,” continued the other Doctor. “I’ve never seen a Slithering Beetle Snake take down a tree before. Do you know, that might actually be worth our time, harvesting a substance like that. It’s incredibly powerful.”

“ _Harvesting_?” said the Doctor in blue. “Are you mad? The last thing we want is for this to fall in the wrong hands. And yes, I’m including you in that!”

The Doctor in brown jutted out his chin. “It’s not like I’m going to go out and start wiping species off the map. But I could die—really, properly and forever—at any moment. I can’t keep swanning in unarmed everywhere I go. Rose, tell him.”

Rose slowed her pace to a brisk jog, checking behind her to make sure that the danger from the Slithering Beetle Snake had passed. Both Doctors stared at her, plainly awaiting her answer.

This was _definitely_ not an argument she wanted to get in the middle of. She looked around, hoping for some way to avoid the question.

“Donna?” she finally said, frowning. She tugged on their hands, pulling them to a stop. “Where,” she demanded, “is Donna?”

Both Doctors looked behind her like Donna might pop out and say “boo!” Then they turned a horrified gaze on each other.

Rose dropped their hands and folded her arms across her chest, giving them accusing looks. “Well?” she prompted.

They both rubbed at the back of their neck, and said, “Um….”

Rose sighed.

****

The Doctors dragged Rose back to the TARDIS and then proceeded to bicker over who should go after Donna.

"That mucus is far more dangerous for humans."

"Oi, I might have one heart, but I still know this planet as well as you. _Most_ things are more dangerous for humans. You don't see that stopping Rose!"

"I trust Rose."

"Oh, that's nice."

Rose figured they could be at it for a while. Shrugging, she moved to go after Donna herself just as the TARDIS doors swung open and Donna stumbled in, green mucus splotched across her shirt. She was sporting a nasty gash on her cheek, and Rose could tell right away that she was not happy. Both Doctors immediately silenced.

“You,” she said from between clenched teeth, “have _got_ to find a solution to your little ménage a trois you’ve got going on. I know you both love Rose, and that’s brilliant. But one of you should bloody well be holding _my_ hand when there’s danger!”

Rose tried to pretend like she was focused on picking dirt out from under her nails. Donna Noble was not someone whose bad side she wanted to be on.

It looked like it was too late for the Doctor. They both moved forward, their hands shoved into their pockets.

“Donna…” began the Doctor in brown.

She stopped him with a withering look. Rose raised her eyebrows in admiration. She’d have to try that sometime.

“I am going to have a shower,” she said. “When I get out, I expect a hot cup of tea. Maybe some biscuits.”

“Right,” said the Doctor in blue. “Biscuits. Tea. Brilliant.”

“And then _you_ three—” she pointed at them, “are going to talk about your relationship.”

The Doctor in blue flinched at the word “relationship.” Rose rolled her eyes. “We’ll sort it out, Donna,” she said. “I promise.”

Donna narrowed her eyes at each of them in turn. “I,” she said, “am never going to get left behind again. Is that clear?”

The three of them nodded their heads.

“Loud and clear,” said both Doctors.

Donna’s gaze snapped over to them, hand twitching next to her side like she was debating who to hit first.

“They’ve been speaking in unison all day,” Rose explained.

“We have not!” they both said.

Donna stared at them open-mouthed before she turned away, muttering, “Why couldn’t _I_ have split into two?”

Rose glanced at the two Doctors. They both looked visibly upset.

“I should go after her,” murmured the human Doctor. “We should probably talk about this.”

Rose gaped at him. It still surprised her that this version of the Doctor seemed so willing to “talk.” She figured it must have been that touch of humanity in him, but he was so the _Doctor_ in other ways, it still felt wrong to hear it coming out of his mouth.

It shocked her even more when the Time Lord Doctor said, “No, I’ll go.”

The other Doctor shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He winked at Rose. “I’m sure we can… keep ourselves occupied.”

The Time Lord Doctor’s mouth tightened into a thin line, but he left the console room without saying anything.

Rose stared mournfully after him, feeling like he was hiding something from her, but not entirely sure what it was.

“Just you and me,” said the human Doctor cheerfully. He grabbed her hand. “Just think, Rose, we can start analyzing that mucus from your hair!”

*****

Donna stomped out of the shower, still burning with anger. She towelled off her hair with more vehemence than usual and then shoved her arms into a clean shirt. Honestly, the nerve of the Doctor. She was happy Rose was back, too, but she wouldn’t go and leave _his_ sorry arse behind on an alien planet.

She kicked open the bathroom door and then came to a stumbling stop. The Doctor sat curled in a corner, legs drawn up to his chest, gaze staring blankly in front of him. It didn’t take a genius to know which one of them it was—only one version of the Doctor could look that weighted down by the universe. Donna faltered, some of her anger draining away.

She hesitated, considering stomping by him, but her compassion won out. Mentally kicking herself, she leaned back against the wall and slid down to sit next to him.

“Okay, what is it?” she said. He stiffened, giving out ‘do-not-touch’ vibes, but she kept her voice gentle, and leaned close enough so that her shoulder touched his.

He didn’t answer right away. Just as Donna was debating leaving him to sulk in private, he released a heavy sigh and said, “I’m going to lose her, Donna.”

“Lose who?” Donna said. “Rose?”

He nodded.

Donna couldn’t stop her snort. The Doctor sent her an irritated look and she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to look serious again.

“You’re not going to lose her,” she said, trying not to sound too exasperated.

“She’s been spending more time with him, Donna.”

“Yeah, because he’s _you_ ,” Donna said. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It’s _everything_!” he said, voice rising. “He’s not just me, he’s _better_. What do you suppose she’s going to be thinking thirty years down the road when he’s ageing at the same time she is?”

“Dunno,” said Donna. “I’m not Rose. How about this one, what are _you_ going to be thinking?”

The Doctor’s mouth clamped shut and he didn’t answer.

“You’ll have to watch her growing old with someone else,” Donna said with sudden understanding. “The one thing you can’t give her.”

It was a moment before he answered. “Yeah,” he finally said.

“But it’s better, though, isn’t it?” Donna said. “Having her back? Doctor?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face, and she could practically _see_ him thinking in that big brain of his—see him considering taking Rose and the other him somewhere, dumping them behind and taking off, telling himself it was for their own benefit and not his.

“Doctor?” she said again, more firmly this time.

“I suppose,” he answered. She couldn’t tell if he really meant it or was just saying it to please her.

“I’ll tell you what,” Donna said, “she’s not going to choose between you, Doctor. Not unless you make her.”

He took a breath. “Right.” Voice cheerful again, he bumped Donna’s shoulder with his own. “Got stuck behind in the confusion, eh, Donna Noble? Won’t happen again.”

“Better not,” Donna said. “You’d be lost without me.”

“Quite right,” said the Doctor. He pushed himself to his feet, grinning in that manic way that made her think he was going to be fine—or at least hiding it better.

“You still owe me a cup of tea,” Donna said.

The Doctor held out a hand to help her to her feet. “One sugar or two?”

Donna scrubbed one hand across her still tender and formally mucus-smeared cheek. “Better make it two.”

****

Rose stared into her mug of tea and busied herself by nibbling on a biscuit. Both the Doctors were on their feet, standing in identical poses with their hands shoved in their pockets and matching scowls on their faces.

Donna glanced at both of them, grabbed her tea, and then bolted from the room. Rose sighed. She couldn’t really blame her.

“Well…” began one Doctor.

“The thing is…” started the other Doctor.

They both stopped and glared at each other.

Rose glanced back and forth between them. She took a nervous sip of tea.

“Ooh,” said one Doctor, pointing at the other one, “how is it I never noticed how _skinny_ I was before now?”

The other Doctor narrowed his eyes. “That is not… is it the suit? Maybe I look smaller in blue. Do I look smaller in blue?” He looked down, set his tie, and then looked up again.

“Is it? Do I? Rose—”

“You both look exactly the same to me,” she said hurriedly. “Very… um… spry.”

“Ha!” said both Doctors at the same time, and then promptly resumed narrowing their eyes at each other.

Neither of them looked like they were going to get back to the subject at hand anytime soon. “We can’t forget about Donna,” Rose prompted.

“That won’t happen again,” said the Doctor wearing blue. “I won’t let it.”

“That solves the problem nicely,” Rose mumbled.

“We just…” said the Doctor in brown. “We need to… adjust.”

Rose glanced at him and then at the other Doctor. “Adjust to us, you mean. The three of us.”

“Three—two,” the Doctor in blue said. “Does it matter? The _point_ is, we don’t have to compete with each other, do we?”

“Bit pointless, really,” said the other Doctor. “Hard to overcome… well, me.”

Rose’s eyes slid back and forth between them. They were starting to give her a headache.

“So you’re really all right with this?” she said, unsure which one of them she was addressing. “There only being one of me and two of you?”

“Yes,” said the Time Lord Doctor.

The Doctor in brown looked sulky. Rose and the other Doctor stared at him until he huffed and said, “Yeah.”

“Okay…” Rose said. She shifted in her chair. “How exactly is this gonna work?”

The Doctor in brown brightened. “What we need is some sort of recognizable pattern to fall back on. Something like… like…”

“A schedule!” said the other Doctor. “Brilliant.”

“Schedule?” Rose said faintly.

“You know,” explained the Doctor in brown, “to keep the peace, that sort of thing. Who’s in charge of rescuing Rose Tyler from the Slithering Beetle Snake or snogging her in the closet in the northwest wing.”

“Really?” said the other Doctor. “That closet’s still there?”

“Oh, yes. Bit on the cramped side, though. _And_ it smells faintly like cigars.” The Doctor pondered this phenomenon and then added, “Last time I was there, I found one leather glove. Just one. In the entire closet.”

“Blimey, where do you suppose the other one is?”

“Could be in that air duct that disappeared a while back. Connecting—”

“Level three to the northwest wing, of _course_. I’d almost forgotten about that. Good air duct, that one.”

“Good closet,” said the brown Doctor.

Rose’s face burned in embarrassment. She cleared her throat. “As fascinating as this is…”

“Right!” said the Doctor in blue. “There’s a schedule to sort out. Now just hold on…” He dug around in his suit and then pulled out a notebook.

Rose snorted tea up her nose—it look _just_ like the notebook that she’d been carrying around with her, the one with her careful notes on both Doctors. He couldn’t have found that, had he? Had she left it lying around? Had Donna...?

The Doctor flipped it open and Rose breathed a sigh of relief. It was a different notebook. Hold on—it looked like… a date book? She scraped her chair forward, and then leaned forward to get a good look.

_Monday: Water the plants under the console room floor. (Remember, their oxygen is essential to the life support system. Don’t leave them to chance.)_

_Tuesday: Check up on the Nardaq system. It keeps drifting away. Bloody New Age types._

_Wednesday—no, Thursday: Trim your sideburns._

The Doctor caught her looking. “Oi!” he said, pulling the planner closer to his chest. Rose almost tipped right out of her chair in her rush to sit back down.

“It’s set to linear earth time,” explained the Doctor. “Less confusing that way. So!” He brandished a pen and grinned at the other Doctor. “When do you want her?”

“What?” said Rose.

“Saturday,” said the Doctor.

“Nope,” said the Doctor with the date book. “I have Saturday.” He held out the agenda, showing where the words _Rose Tyler and Time Lord Doctor_ were scribbled under **Saturday**.

“See?”

“What?” said Rose again.

“Well, that’s just cheating.”

“Sorry, mate, too slow,” said the Doctor. “How about Tuesday? I like Tuesdays.”

“Not as much as Saturdays,” challenged the Doctor.

“Oi,” said Rose, cutting in. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

They both turned to look at her. “Yes, sorry,” said the Doctor in blue. He held the pen over the notebook. “Who would you rather spend Saturday with?”

“That’s not fair, I’m not choosing,” Rose said defensively. They both shot her suffering ‘well-that’s-why-we-were-doing-it-for-you’ looks. She smacked one hand down on the table, making them both jump, and then said, “You can’t just… divide me up like I’m some sort of pet poodle. That’s not the way it works!”

“You’re not a pet poodle!” they both said, wearing identical offended expressions.

Rose gaped at them open-mouthed. When did her entire world go so mad? Just a few weeks ago, her life had followed predictable patterns—wake up, stop in at Torchwood, and try the dimension cannon. Move on to other projects when it didn’t work. Eat lunch, alone. Go back to her flat, alone. Go to bed, alone.

She’d had Mum and Tony and Mickey, but it still felt like she’d been missing a part of herself, like she was living a temporary existence. It was nice and all and Pete was wonderful to her, but it couldn’t be what she was meant to do for the rest of her life. It just couldn’t.

She never wanted to feel that lonely again.

Suddenly, she clamped her hands to her mouth, not quite able to cover her snort of laughter. Her life was _mad_ , no doubt about that. But it was _brilliant_. She didn’t just have the Doctor back—she had two versions of him, both of whom loved her enough to bicker pointlessly over who got her on Saturday.

They blinked at her laughter and then turned baffled gazes on each other, mouthing, “What?”

Rose tried to stifle her laugh, hiccuping into her hands. Both Doctors gaped at her.

“Listen,” she said, “I’m not going to be divided up between you, yeah? We’ll sort something out.”

They eyed her doubtfully.

“We _will_ ,” Rose said. “And if neither of you can remember to grab Donna then I will.” She shrugged. “This might not be exactly what I imagined when I thought about getting back to you, but it’s still better than being separated.”

She could tell that affected them. The Time Lord Doctor looked away while the half-human one kept his gaze on her face.

“If that’s what you want,” he said, after a pause.

Rose nodded. “It is. I don’t want to feel like you’re… I dunno… sharing me or something.”

“Actually—” said the Doctor in brown, “if you look at the _technical_ basis of our relationship, ‘sharing’ isn’t such a bad word.”

“Yeah, but that’s not…” She sighed. Honestly, sometimes it was like speaking to a child. “Look, I love you. Both of you. It’s that simple.”

The Time Lord Doctor gave a tight smile, obviously recognizing that it was anything but simple. The other Doctor looked mollified by this, and sent her a happy grin, bouncing lightly on his toes.

Rose pushed herself to her feet, grinning at them. She leaned in and kissed the Doctor in blue on the cheek, and then turned her head and kissed the other one. For the first time since arriving back from the parallel world, she felt well and truly happy.

“I’ll see you both later,” she said. “And remember, no schedules, no leaving Donna behind, and stop making me feel guilty for wanting both of you. Got it?”

They both nodded. Then the Doctor in brown frowned. “Hold on. Where are you going? Rose, we’ve still got that mucus that needs analyzing.”

“Ooh,” said the Time Lord Doctor, perking up. “You managed to salvage a sample of that?”

“Yup.”

“And does it—”

“Mutated at birth, making the DNA just—”

“A tiny bit different than the rest of the species?”

The brown Doctor nodded. “Of course, that doesn’t explain its heightened ability to defend itself. I was just going to run those tests now.”

“Could be a matter of evolution.”

“Or the two mutations are correlated!” they both shouted in unison.

Rose stared at them. They seemed to have forgotten her. She took one step back. Then another. Neither of them noticed. Shrugging, she turned and headed towards the pool. She figured Donna could use some company.


End file.
